There was never any magic
by ReeReeWithAngst
Summary: The spite and mistrust that comes with war makes having an elite and obedient team essential to a corrupt government. So an initiative is put in place to prepare and control 8 bright young minds selected for this team. The Magic School Bus Initiative watched them grow up and change from Children into Soldiers. Now all have a role to play and a price to pay.
1. The Flower

He bent down, careful with his firearm, to pluck the flower. Flowers didn't spring up often anymore. Not around here. It was a good sign. It had to be. A smile lit up his face. Then he straightened and abandoned his post, alerting Headquarters of his insubordination. Even when breaking away from his post he moved with military precision, counting steps until he reached her.

There was never magic. Only science. A chance to be part of something. A glorious purpose. You're not going to like what I'm about to tell you. That the eight chosen for the Magic School Bus Initiative, merely children at the time, were tested, trained to become part of an elite government team of operatives. They did not luck into their position in Ms. Frizzle's classroom, nor was it mere coincidence that there were only eight chosen.

All eight remain. They have their jobs to do. Risks to take. Sacrifices to make.

You may not like the massacre of childhood that seemingly occurred when these eight were taken for training. But they were bred for it.

"I'm not good at getting presents but I saw it and it was pretty and I thought it would be good for you. Because you're pretty..." He fumbled with his words, wearing a bright smile, with a childlike quality that only he still possessed, probably gripping it as tightly as he gripped the daisy in his hand.

The recipient, an old friend, one of his classmates, gaped at him, looking uneasy. But she smiled, barely. She outranked him, carried a bigger gun and used it better than he ever would. She'd always been tougher than him.

"Thank you, now get back to your sector. That's an order." She had a sneaking suspicion that flowers only grew around him. She didn't believe in good signs, only good people...

"I am more than just someone you outrank, Wanda..." He mumbled, dropping his firearm in a meager show of defiance. Looking at her with heart stopping determination. She snatched it up, angry for half a second, then simply scared, and pressed it back into his arms.

"Yes, you are, which is why I implore you to be careful."

"Say it... Say you love me." He begged, his smile hopeful, his eyes expectant. She sighed, brushing a strand of her short hair behind her ear. He could only ever twist her arm by risking his own.

"Okay, I love you. Now get back, you know what they'll do if you step out of line."

"It's fine..." He said with a casual grin. He was breaking on the inside. She pushed him away. A second after he was out of sight the receiver in her ear sounded. He had no idea the things she did to keep that smile on his face.

"Problem, Wanda?"

"No. Let him be, he just wanted to give me a flower." She twisted it around in her hand before tucking it into her hair, never once stepping out of line. The pretty flower hadn't looked out of place with him, but it contrasted starkly with her demeanor.

"Of course."

"Don't, Dorothy Ann. Just let him be for once."

"We'll let it slip this time, but _please_ keep a better leash on him."

"Of course."

Dorothy Ann, chosen for her superb intelligence, ran things behind the scenes with a calm adherence to the rules she understood were the best for everyone. She was not alone, however. As soon as she was off communication with Wanda Li, the toughest soldier they had at their disposal, she turned to her companion.

"Lighten the mood, we don't want any more insubordination today." Carlos Ramon, readily known as the spirit of the team, the heart that drew them together and kept them going, gave a grim, obedient nod, before cracking a smile, unseen by his classmates but heard in his voice.

"Times are tough of course, they always will be but we can hold strong. Everyone has the strength inside of them. It is for the greater good and there is no greater goodness than that inside of each and every one of you, my friends. If anyone has a lot to offer, it's you guys. Every day I'm amazed that I get to be your friend. I care about you guys, so keep up the good work. I'm always here if you need a friend."

He did care about his friends, but he lied to them. Lied through his teeth. Each and every one of them had been manipulated into being ruthless. He could see these people he cared about reaching the breaking point more and more, and he alone was the one responsible for administrating some sort of peace in the turmoil. Offer up some sort of team spirit. His words did little, he knew how fruitless it could be. At least no one was taken in for treatment today. It was harder to spew bull crap straight in people's faces, especially the people you love.

This was his job. Keep them happy, crack jokes and promise there was the strength within them to fight for a better way. Their better way was slaughter, and he was incapable of it, always had been, but he encouraged it, and that was worse. The ones that would've never hurt a fly if not under government orders were the ones he gushed to about untapped potential and inner strength.

It was a pain. A necessary pain.

Where would they take him if he rebelled? There was no one to instill conformity in him. No one to keep him happy. If he was to stop fitting the mold they probably would just torture him a little more until he fit again.

Carlos stepped out of headquarters, walking the path to his bunk, counting steps. He only stopped when he saw a broken, unplucked flower, tread on by some militant operation. It was a bad sign.

There was never any magic in the magic school bus. Just science, and innocence, and ill intent. The first and the last remain.

The innocence is long gone.

 **To be continued**


	2. The Stars

The stars shone brightly, but it was hard to focus on stars when the mood was darkened by fear.

"Is it safe? We're supposed to be in our bunks."

"Trust me Phoebe. I talked with Carlos and he said we could have some leeway." She let out a sigh of relief.

"If we get in trouble-"

"I'll take the fall." Tim promised, taking her hand.

"You never even try to have fun, Phoebe. Just enjoy the night."

"I'm sorry that I don't find insubordination to be fun..." He kissed her, pushing her hair out of her face.

"Relax." Kissing her took away the rest of the day for him, took away the darkness. But it did not do the same for her, and he pulled away when he felt wetness on his cheeks from her eyes.

"It was a hard day..." She whispered as tears streamed down her face.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry... I'm here for you if you want to talk." She sniffled, burying her face in his strong shoulder. He held her close.

"Phoebe... What is it? What happened, baby were you hurt?"

"N-no... I..." Her body was wracked with sobs.

"Honey it's okay, anything that happened, anything you did, I'm here for you, let it out..."

"A body..." She whispered.

"Oh. Well, I know it's bullcrap but you did as they would order, so that's a good thing. You aren't a rebel or a rule breaker, I'd say you did well." Tim was an alternate, he worked hard at most times in the laboratory under careful observation, used for his creative brain. But when ordered to he would pick up his weapon and slaughter with the rest. This was usually his position when another of his classmates were injured. When it was Phoebe that was hurt he did his most detestable deeds when prodded to, because he was the angriest when his love was scarred. But Phoebe never got a break if she wasn't hurt. And so she was called on to do horrible things, again and again and again.

"A child..." Phoebe wept, and of course, he'd felt it too, done it too, but Phoebe was far kinder than him. He only cared about her and Bout following orders. And now she was hurting because of orders.

"Phoebe... It isn't your fault, you were just following orders." It had to be justifiable somehow, if the had been told to do it surely there was a reason why. Children were used as weapons nowadays. Weapons and distractions. He felt a little sick to his stomach. Were the others in danger? No, he didn't care, he couldn't care. That was their own problem. He coughed into his hand to clear his head and then turned to kiss her again.

"Which of you orchestrated this?" Dorothy Ann asked, stern and reproachful.

"I did, it was all me. And Carlos gave me permission." Tim said apologetically.

"That settles it then, tomorrow morning you can sit down and have a chat with him about why he thought he had the authority to direct you, and why you had the balls to defy orders."

"I'm so sorry." He said, glad his girlfriend had gotten off scot-free.

"Now both of you report to your bunks. Separately."

"Yes ma'am." He gave Phoebe's hand a little squeeze and they went their separate paths.

Dorothy Ann leaned against a tree as she watched her classmates disappear in the darkness. She sighed.

"It's so easy to obey. I don't understand. They should be happy because they are good. It's a headache to see them like this." She exhaled long and slow and then went to check on the soldiers handling night watch. Wanda and Ralphie. Capable and separate. Unless there was an attack, there should be no more disturbances.

"Is everything running smoothly?" She asked the individual soldiers.

"Yes ma'am." Ralphie agreed. Night mode was running. She nodded.

"Radio in if there is a disturbance, or if the fatigue settles in too deep."

"Of course."

Though Wanda's stamina didn't warrant a slip into night mode just yet, she repeated the same to their most skilled soldier. Of course Wanda knew all of this. It was why Wanda was outranked only by Dorothy Ann. Though Carlos held a lot of sway and had the occasional perk for it, he had little to no actual authority.

"And Wanda, I suggest you keep Arnold in line if you both intend to avoid treatment." She gave a quick, curt nod.

"I hold myself responsible for any missteps."

"You will both be held accountable." Dorothy Ann said strictly. Wanda could take a slap on the wrist time and time again, and nothing would ever change. Arnold must understand what happens when a soldier steps out of line.

"I understand."

"Make him understand." Wanda nodded, trying not to appear frightened.

Satisfied, she headed back to head quarters. The shelter of the trees was comforting, but it could also be daunting. Things could appear from the woods. Enemies and monsters risen from the wastelands. Changed like a cucumber in brine.

She was halfway back when the creature emerged. She gave it half a glance to see that it truly was not friend but foe and then she let loosengunfire, taking it down before it could try to attack. It wasn't human, but that wouldn't have stopped her. There was only one member of their team that couldn't look something in the eye and kill it. What he did was much worse.

"Good morning Tim. I am certainly sorry that you ended up here on account of me. I thought Dorothy Ann would show some empathy."

"What's empathy?" Tim asked, sounding hollow.

"Don't talk like that. She's our friend, she's been through things too. I know that it's hard, but you're doing the right thing. To give up is to ask to be escorted into the wastelands. You are an amazing person, Tim, you have the greatest creative potential I have ever seen. One day, I think the whole world will see it too. One day you'll be applauded for your work. Until then, know that we see it, and we're impressed."

"Impressed by murder?"

"Impressed by your mind, and by your heart. All that you do, every rule you follow, every breakthrough you engineer, all that is excellent inside of you is for her, isn't it?"

"Yes, she's the most important thing in my life."

"And that's why you must comply. For her, so that you two can live a better life when the war is over." Tim nodded.

"Yes, you're right. Compliance is what will help her."

"It's the only way you'll live up to your potential." Carlos watched Tim leave the room, knowing no problems would arise from his sector for awhile. It wasn't exactly a comforting thought. But this is how it had to be. Still. His stomach hurt, and it was harder today to force a smile.

 **To be continued**


	3. The Files

File #1

Subject: Wanda Li

Strengths: Brute Force, advanced military strategy, excellent fighter. Dedicated soldier. Willing to do whatever it takes. Rarely needs persuasion. Knows how to keep in line. Willing to be controlled. Loyal. Sees the bigger picture. Authoritative.

Weaknesses: Arnold Perlstein, romantic tendencies.

File #2

Subject: Arnold Perlstein

Strengths: Loyal, obedient, adequate fighter. Dedicated soldier. Easy to persuade. Willing to be controlled.

Weaknesses: Wanda Li, emotions, romantic tendencies, childlike mindset at times. Cares too much for the other soldiers. Stamina does not meet government standards-extra precautions needed. Doesn't see the bigger picture.

File #3

Subject: Dorothy Ann

Strengths: Advanced intellect, willing to do whatever it takes, military strategist, excellent fighter. Very bright and capable, ingenuitive. Always moving forward. Rarely dwells on the past. Excellent leader. Understands the bigger picture.

Weaknesses: Mistrusted by the other soldiers.

File #4

Subject: Ralphie Tennelli

Strengths: Dedicated soldier. Obedient. Talented fighter. Team player. No personal arrogance to interfere with performance. Willing to do whatever it takes. Responds well to authority. Sees the bigger picture.

Weaknesses: Cares too much for the other soldier. Stamina does not meet government standards-extra precautions needed.

File #5

Subject: Tim Jamal

Strengths: Creative visionary. Willing to do whatever it takes. Moderately easy to persuade. Understands limits. Sees the bigger picture. Intelligent. Skilled fighter

Weaknesses: Phoebe Terese. Romantic tendencies. Not as much of a team player. Sarcasm

File #6

Subject: Phoebe Terese

Strengths: Skilled fighter. Moderately easy to persuade. Obedient. Team player.

Weaknesses: Tim Jamal. Romantic tendencies. Highly emotional. Does not see the bigger picture.

File #7

Subject: Keesha Franklin

Strengths: Team Player. Talented fighter. Resourceful. Skilled leader.

Weaknesses: Rebellious. Does not see the bigger picture. Too Ambitious.

File #8

Subject: Carlos Ramon

Strengths: Persuasive. Clever. Empathetic as necessary. Sees the biggest picture. Intelligent. Excellent stamina. Dishonest. Manipulative.

Weaknesses: Emotional. Cares too much for the other soldiers. Pacifestic. Nostalgic. Too Human. Has a conscience.


	4. The Warning

There was dirt in his mouth. It was gritty and dry and familiar. That's what happens when you're slammed to the ground from behind. Arnold distinctly recognized the impression of a government weapon on his back, so whoever knocked him down had hit him with that. Now, that same stolen weapon was pressed against his back. There was a bleep.

"Who did you call!" A voice hissed towards him, he looked up and stared into the nasty face of one of the mutated spawn. At least this one had kept its brain. Some of them were numb to sensation and information. This one still knew how to fight. Maybe it was one of theirs, outside of their own special force, one of the extras who turned. That's why protecting this camp was so important. They had to save all the best and the brightest who hadn't turned yet. They didn't even protect each other, all of them lay outside of the camp's border. Only Dorothy Ann and Carlos knew exactly who they were protecting.

"No one." He said, in a calm and controlled voice as he imperceptibly reached for his knife. His gun was kicked away, but the gun meant very little.

"All you stand to defend will fall and die." That's all it took, for all he stood for was Wanda. He stabbed the assailant roughly in the thigh, and when they stumbled back he reached up to finish the job. Soon, they were reversed, with his attacker in the dirt and Arnold sore, but upright, blood coating his hands. Wanda looked at him.

"D.A. said you left your post and ordered me to reprimand you. I'll let her know." Wanda radioed in.

"There was an attack, and that is why his post was abandoned. They are getting closer to camp."

"Thank you for alerting me. We will have the problem addressed in Research and Development. Get back to your post, Wanda."

Wanda looked at Arnold, who reached out a hand towards her. She gave him a tired smile, his mouth smudged with dirt, lowering his hand with her own.

"Be careful Arnold. Stay safe."

"I will." He held onto her hand and pulled her towards him. She was strong and could have resisted. She was weak and didn't. Their lips pressed for a moment, and she pulled away.

"You have to be more careful Arnold." She said, trying to sound authoritative, though she felt weaker than she ever had. He stood at his post, a dorky smile on his face. He began to wipe off his glasses as she walked back to her post. Both were immediately contacted.

"Arnold, I think we should catch up tomorrow. Just you and me."

"Oh. Okay, Carlos."

"Sounds great. I'll see you for breakfast in my office. You're doing great work. You have nothing to worry about."

Then Dorothy Ann called Wanda.

"Were there any more problems, Wanda, that would prevent you from getting to your post sooner?"

"No, no problems." Wanda sounded a little afraid, not knowing that Arnold already had an appointment scheduled.

"I assume you know the value in promptness, especially since there seem to be increasingly more frequent attacks from the other side?"

"I understand and apologize. I was momentarily sidetracked." Dorothy Ann looked at the moment frozen on one of her screens, where two red dots had become one.

"I see. Be more careful." Those moments were unattainable. Those moments were not what they were fighting for. Those moments were not why they killed. Those moments were not why they did anything they had to do at all.

"Arnold, it's good to see you, dude, please, have a seat. I'm excited to be able to talk to you. You always brighten my day. You know about Phoebe and Tim, of course?"

"Uh, no? I don't really work with Tim."

"Yes, of course. Which is a shame because you two are in a similar situation. I've heard a rumor that you like Wanda," Arnold's cheeks reddened.

"Oh, don't worry, it's no big deal. I mean, I guess in a way it is a big deal. You'll have to be more careful. For her, of course. You wouldn't want anything to happen to her because neither of you were being diligent at your posts, right?" Arnold turned pale.

"N-no."

"It's just gotten more dangerous lately. In a little while the war will let up and everything you've been fighting for will come to be. You are such a good guy, Arnold. You are loyal and kind and positive in a way it's sometimes hard to be in these situations and I never want to see that go. But you have to be more careful. You have to think about her. After the war, you can be with her. Get married, start a family, live your dreams. But until then, you must be careful." Carlos bit down on his tongue when he stopped. He hated this emotional manipulation. He hated that it came so naturally. He cut his tongue but he knew he was causing more pain for the naive soldier who may never know.

"I will be more careful."

"It will all be worth it in the end." He told this to Arnold, and to himself. Maybe one day, despite what he truly believed, maybe one day they would all be able to breathe easy.

And then what? Arnold walked out of his office, and if this treacherous war ever ended, Arnold would walk out and be fine. But where would someone who twisted emotions for a living, someone who praised all the qualities in others that he himself lacked, where would he go? What would he do? This line of work was all he'd ever known, all he was good at.

He started a broadcast to the soldiers.

"It's a beautiful morning," He said as he looked out the window, unable to judge the beauty from inside, "so look alive and stay alert. There have been reports of extra attacks. We are in the thick of it, nearing the end, so every push counts. Stay vigilant. You are all incredible, and I know you can bring about the end of this war single-handedly." When the broadcast ended, he began to weep.


	5. The Revolution

The bunks were sparsely furnished. A bed and a chest of drawers for uniforms and sanctioned pajamas. Keesha had had to haggle for a hair tie. Now, she pulled her hair back and looked around the room at her wearied compatriots. It had been a while since Keesha was able to address the other two. She buried her microphone in the skimpy mattress and fixed her gaze on Phoebe and Wanda.

"We should talk," Keesha said, glancing between them. Phoebe sat up and Wanda grunted.

"Keesha, are we doing this again?" The fierce soldier asked, arms crossed.

"Oh yes."

"If DA finds out, you know what will happen." Wanda pointed out.

"And I don't want to be dragged down with your revolution. So shut it down."

"We should talk," Keesha says.

"I am not talking," Wanda said.

"That's fine. Phoebe?"

"I'm not sure... I'm not sure. I mean, I want to, I really do. But it doesn't seem worth the risk."

"I see what you're thinking. You're clinging to the false hope that it'll all end soon. But there's no end unless we end it ourselves." Phoebe seemed to think about it.

"You're wrong!" Wanda suddenly exploded, glaring at Keesha.

"They say you're _so_ brave and _so_ strong, but you are a coward, Wanda! You just want things to be easy. Following orders is easy for you. Believing the lies your head is filled with is _easy_ for you. When are you going to wake up?"

"Wake up to what? Your conspiracy theories?"

"Wanda, they've been grooming us for war since we were 9. They looked at children and saw weapons for a war that they created. A war that profits them."

"How does this war profit them?" Wanda growled.

"They pay their soldiers nothing, their scientists have incentives to make breakthroughs, thinking it will help the war effort. The population is being controlled and their mutant enemies are being eradicated. And we're the ones paying the price." Keesha said, hitting her palm with her fist as she made each point. Phoebe had perked up and was paying attention.

"You're being nonsensical, Keesha. You don't know these things. You have no proof."

"Have either of you heard anything from DA or Carlos about the war ending?"

"They both say it will be soon," Phoebe said, more inclined to encourage the conversation.

"That's all the proof I need. Their job is to lie to us. To survive we have to assume that everything they say is a lie." Just as Keesha said that there was a knock at the door. A harsh knock.

"Don't open it," Keesha said. Wanda walked over to the door and threw it open.

"Keesha Franklin, come with me." It was Ralphie. He didn't look like he wanted to do this. They all knew him to be empathetic and understanding. He didn't want to hurt people, but he was also an order follower. Keesha looked at him with more sympathy than he looked at her.

"Gladly. Take me to your leader." She walked over.

"Microphone." He instructed, and she put the comm system back in her ear with a sigh. She hated being connected to the corruption.

They walked together in silence. It was his firearm that kept her mouth shut. She couldn't lead a revolution if she was dead. She wanted to help Ralphie. She wanted to help all of them. But so many bought into the lies because it was what they wanted to believe. Ralphie was the type to buy into what Carlos referred to as the bigger picture in his toxic siren songs. She knew that she would be going to see Carlos. He would smile like always and tell her that it was a misunderstanding that could be brushed away if she just listened to his tangled web of lies. And she always said no. Sometimes she would jam her fingers in her ears and hum. The government was going to take children as soldiers? Then the soldiers would act like children.

"Keesha," Carlos said, not sounding like the cheerful, hopeful persona he put on for them.

"What? Are you going to tell me that you're disappointed in me? That I don't see the bigger picture?" She asked, staring him down. Carlos let out a sigh.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you I think you're the only one in this whole place that sees the bigger picture."

"Wait. What?"

"I've heard some of the things you say to the others. You're right. The one thing you don't know is that these mutants we're fighting against... The government created them. They never intended to, but in trying to create super soldiers, they made something way worse. They use you guys to clean up their mistakes and protect the scientists in the camp who are working harder than ever on their super soldiers. With each batch of mistakes..."

"The war is prolonged." She guessed.

"I'm afraid so."

"Why are you telling me this?" Keesha asked.

"Because no one else gets it. And I'm sick of lying. I'm sick of manipulating and persuading and putting on a fake smile, and letting my friends get hurt because I told them they should."

"We have to stop this. We have to take them down at the source." Keesha said, looking at Carlos. He hesitated, then nodded.

"You're right. We have to get the others on our side. You're a good leader, Keesha."

"I haven't been able to get anyone to lead, though."

"I think I can handle that. Phoebe seems close, you work on her. Tim would follow her to the ends of the earth. As for me, I'll set up an appointment in the morning. Now all you need to do is act like I tried to talk you out of it. No one can know, okay?"

"Okay."

"It might get dangerous." He warned.

"My whole life has been dangerous, Carlos."

"Got it. Well, hopefully, that's about to change."

 **To be continued**


	6. The Window

Arnold was nervous. This was the second time in a week that he had ended up in Carlos's office. Wanda would be so upset.

"Good morning, Arnold." The room was quiet, the sun shining in through the window made it seem like they were in a different place, away from the blood and dirt.

"Good morning. Am I in trouble?

"Not even a little bit, but we need to talk."

"Okay." Arnold was still confused. It wasn't that he didn't like Carlos or this room, but Wanda had always tried to steer Arnold away from both the man and his office as if they hadn't been friends. As if they hadn't experienced the same blood and dirt. He sat down and gave Carlos his full attention, missing Carlos's typical smile.

"I had you in my office just the other day, and I mentioned that the war would be over soon," Carlos began.

"Yes," Arnold agreed, a smile flitting on his face as he thought about what it would mean for him and Wanda if Carlos was about to tell him that the war was ending. He had held onto this hope for the longest time. He had never given up, even through the blood and dirt. Giving up on the promise of a better life meant giving up on Wanda, and he would do anything for her.

"I'm afraid that's not really the case. In fact, our government will keep prolonging the war until they finally get the results they want. They're going to keep the fight going, all the while telling us we're getting closer to the end, making me tell you that we're getting closer to the end. But this war only ends if we band together and end it ourselves." Carlos presented the information as calmly as he could, but it had been easier with Keesha. He hadn't felt his heart beat so much- as if he was anxious for the backlash.

"You lied?" Arnold asked, and Carlos felt so guilty and trapped. He lodged the accusation against himself every day, and he knew that from any of his other friends it wouldn't hurt so much. But Arnold had been the only person who had held on to the magic they'd been promised as children. Knowing that magic wasn't real Arnold still believed in something. He maintained this childlike hope. Arnold had held on to what everyone else had lost. Arnold was a good soldier because he was loyal and had adapted. He'd complained when they were younger, and in a way, he still complained now. The way he would cast his weapons aside in Wanda's presence to show her what he actually cared about. What Carlos admired and envied and feared in Arnold was the way he knew Arnold would be okay after the war. Arnold would be okay where ever he went. Because Arnold was just a good person, and that was the most dangerous thing in this war.

And one of the reasons Arnold was the second person Carlos wanted on his team.

"I hate myself for lying, Arnold. To you and to all the others. But the lying stops now. You don't deserve to be lied to. You're a good person, and that's one thing I've told you that isn't a lie." Arnold was startled by that. His smile was hesitant. He didn't feel good. He understood what Carlos was saying, but Carlos hadn't murdered people.

"Not fully good," Arnold said. He struggled with it. Carlos thought that there was nothing worse than encouraging people to kill in a voice that could be suggesting the color of shoes you wore. But in the mind of someone who killed, killing was worse.

"No one is fully good. But I know that you don't belong in this environment. No one should be forced to kill, and you wouldn't have if you hadn't been pulled into it. When this war ends I really believe that you're going to walk out of it and be accepted into normal society and _thrive_."

"But this war isn't going to end, is it?" Arnold had been following the conversation.

"No, it is going to end. Because we're going to shut it down. We're going to go in at the source and end it." Arnold nodded. He adapted. He was loyal.

"Okay."

"I want you on my team, Keesha already is, but you don't have to do this. I want you to know you have a choice now. You can join me, but you don't have to. You can fight for them, but you don't have to. I'm not going to manipulate people anymore. You have free will. This is your life." Arnold laughed, which was the most surprising sound Carlos had ever heard. He'd forgotten what laughter sounded like.

"There's always been a choice, Carlos. You were never God." Carlos was shaken once more.

"So, what do you say?"

"Let's end this war."

"I'm glad to have you on my team. There are two things that I think you should do. The first is to pretend that we never had this conversation, act like I was talking to you about misconduct. The second is to talk to Wanda. I don't think she'd listen to me. She doesn't trust me. I think she'll trust you. It might be best if you don't mention me at all, but do whatever you see fit."

"Okay. I'll talk to her."

"Don't worry about getting in trouble anymore, I can cover for you."

"Thank you, Carlos. For being honest." Carlos took a deep breath.

"Thank you for being yourself." Arnold nodded and stood up, picking up his firearm and continuing like it was a normal day. But both men were shaken to the core. Everything had changed. This war was ending.

There was a knock on Carlos' door. His head snapped up. It was DA.

"The reprimand took longer than usual." She reprimanded.

"The subject was being difficult. I had to try a different tactic."

"Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine."

 **To be continued.**


	7. The Chance

Keesha hadn't been this afraid until it was real. Now the revolution had fire, had stakes. Carlos had reported that he'd swayed Arnold to the side of the revolution and that Arnold would sway Wanda. Keesha's job was first to persuade Phoebe. Phoebe would persuade Tim. That would leave two. They had to have Ralphie on their side, he was the second best soldier on the team and cared a lot about the group.

As for DA? She didn't know if the woman could be saved. No one believed the lies of the war more than her. Everyone else had some hesitance, some inner belief, or someone who made them strive for the end of the war. Dorothy Ann had no reason to believe that it was a lie, and nobody to persuade her otherwise, or so Keesha believed.

Carlos, however, was working on proving Keesha wrong. He had a few reasons to work hard on this issue. He believed, for one, that they couldn't end this war without all of them working together. Besides, they were a team, even if they could make it without DA, why would they try? He believed that they shouldn't leave someone behind even if they could, because they'd all gone through the same things. Besides, he saw something in DA that no one else did. He worked so closely with her that he knew she was a good person. People mistrusted her and thought that she didn't understand, but Carlos knew she was lonely and worn out too. He wanted to save her from the lie she was trapped in. Every time she mentioned the bigger picture, every time he had to lie to her, it just felt wrong. Felt sickening.

No one should be forced to kill, whether body or spirit. Carlos had decided he wasn't going to kill spirit anymore. And so he worked tirelessly on his goal. He had always been able to work through the night on a project and now proved to be no exception. His cover, as normal, was research and morale, but now his research was for destroying this war from the inside, and his morale boosts were rallying cries for the soldiers already on his side.

Maybe she knew something was wrong. Maybe she knew that Phoebe and Keesha had been talking. That Keesha was a leader hell-bent on revolution. Maybe she realized that after Keesha talked to Phoebe, Phoebe talked to Tim. Did she notice that Tim walked with a different stride when he came back to work? Did she realize that Carlos didn't appear so weighed down and stuck anymore?

"Carlos. The soldiers are pulling something. I need you to have meetings with Tim, Phoebe, and Keesha."

"All at once?"

"Of course not." She snapped, clearly nervous, tired, and definitely afraid.

"That will take all day."

"So be it. It is our number one priority." He looked at her with sad eyes. She should be prioritizing life, not this slow march towards death.

"I'd like to talk to later." Heart would not persuade her. DA was afraid of heart. Facts would persuade her, and facts had been collected. He just needed the chance to talk to her.

"There's no time. Start the meetings."

"I'm on it." He only needed a chance.

"Tim." He said, skipping the good mornings and the extravagant compliments. He was glad to have a sharp mind on his team. If they couldn't have Dorothy Ann, Tim was a good substitute. The two together would be unstoppable problem solvers, though, and Carlos still hadn't given up.

"I take it that this will be a different sort of conversation than normal." Tim said, arms crossed.

"Yes." Carlos knew what was coming. He was sheepish, but not afraid as he had been with Arnold.

"Empathy. You talked so passionately about empathy, and heart, and potential. And the whole time you were just _lying_!"

"I never lied about what I see in you. I never lied about your heart or potential. I'm just not going to lie about how you should use that potential anymore. This war is going to end soon, because we're going to end it."

"When do we start?"

"When everyone is on board."

"Good luck with that. Dorothy Ann is never going to be anything more than a government puppet." Carlos took immediate offense.

"Look Tim, you don't know her like I do. I have the facts to back us up, and she'll listen to facts."

"But she'll never give you the chance to get into her head." Carlos changed the topic.

"Act as normal, but begin gathering fire power. Arnold, Phoebe, and Keesha are for sure on our side, protect their covers and your own." Tim nodded and headed out.

Phoebe was a lot nicer than the others had been. She made no fitting accusations, because she understood very well being in a position you didn't want to be in. He gave her similar instructions as he'd given her boyfriend, and when he reassured her that the end of the war was in sight, he noticed that there was no longer a weight on his chest. Because he wasn't lying anymore. The end _was_ in sight.

"I assume our next target is Ralphie?" Keesha asked, going straight into the matter at hand. There was no time to mince words, though Carlos excelled at it. She was a woman of action, not of conversation.

"No, your next target is Ralphie."

"I think you would be more convincing, Carlos," Keesha pointed out.

"Maybe so, but I have a more difficult job to do."

"Was Wanda unwilling to be persuaded?" Keesha asked, unsurprised.

"I have complete trust in Arnold." Arnold hadn't reported back yet, but Carlos had no concerns about it.

"Tim, then."

"No, I've spoken to Tim already, he is fully on board." It finally clicked in Keesha's mind.

"Dorothy Ann isn't going to change her mind, Carlos."

"I just need a chance." She looked at him like he was insane and shook her head.

"Well then, I hope you get one."

 **To be Continued**


	8. The Choice

There were flowers now. It had started with one or two, but now he had his pick as he plucked one and brought it to Wanda. He didn't count his steps as he walked anymore. He didn't glance over his shoulder. If he had been afraid before, he wasn't now. The only thing he was afraid of was the next few moments. The fear in _her_ eyes as she looked at him because she didn't know yet not to be afraid. It was his job to tell her.

He started with these words, "I want to marry you, Wanda." Those were not the words she expected to hear. In her fear, those were not the words she wanted to hear. They both knew that for the government that urged they suppress these feelings, she was a stronger warrior when he was kept away. When her head was full of the I love yous he stole from her lips she was worthless to them. She looked at him, eyes flashing with fear as he knelt and offered the flower.

"Get up," She ordered, grabbing his arm. He took her arm as he stood, holding on to it.

"You can't say those things, Arnold!" She didn't know yet. Didn't know that there wasn't a reason to be afraid anymore.

"No, I couldn't say those things. It's different now, Wanda. We can have a future now."

"You know we can't."

"I need you to listen to me. Just give me a moment of your time. You trust me right? I know you love me and you know I love you, but do you trust me?" Wanda had to grapple with this for a few seconds. On the one hand, Arnold's actions often went against everything they were told. Yet, on the other hand, she knew that Arnold was the most sincere and good person she had ever met. There was a reason he had her heart.

"Of course I trust you, but right now you're acting crazy, you have to be more careful."

"No, listen, the time I cower because the government tells me to is over. We cower because we listen to them, but they've been lying to us. For years they've been lying to us. This war they keep us in, this war that has swallowed most of our lives, is something that they created." She looked at him like he was insane.

"What are you talking about?"

"They're manufacturing the monsters we fight as they try to create super soldiers." He had rarely ever sounded this serious before. Wanda knew he had no reason to lie to her, she looked in his eyes and saw that he wholeheartedly believed what he told her. Arnold was nothing if not genuine. However, she often feared that he was as gullible as he was genuine.

"Did Keesha tell you this?" Keesha's revolution made her squirm. She didn't want a rebellion endangering them all.

"No, Carlos told me this. He told me he couldn't keep lying anymore, and that together we could fight back and legitimately end this war." She was floored. Carlos had said that? Carlos had been known to lie, but if what Arnold said was true, maybe Carlos was no longer lying.

"Do you trust me?" He asked again.

"I... I'm not sure." She had not moved from her post. Not done anything to trigger suspicion. Though he was telling her to break free from the rules, she couldn't pull herself away from the discipline that had governed her for years. She wanted to move from the rigid ruling, but she was scared to take the step. He slipped the flower behind her ear and grabbed her hands, holding them close.

"I know trust is hard. Faith has to be blind sometimes. But I know we love each other, Wanda. We deserve a future, but if we're ever going to have one we have to fight for it." He was so serious, so passionate about this. He caught her lips before she could protest. She was stunned, frozen. She couldn't kiss back, but that didn't seem to bother him. When he pulled away, he still held her hands.

"Are you ready to fight for this?" Was she? She was so indoctrinated, fighting for the people who told her what being strong was. But she was starting to realize that there was something that made her feel stronger than fighting ever had. She was starting to realize that the thing they said made her the weakest was what made her feel the strongest. It was love. It was the way she loved him that made her strong. Because love was brave, love was defiant. Love would fight for the future. Arnold got down on his knees again.

"Wanda, will you marry me?" She had to laugh.

"You stupid, romantic sap... Of course I will." She stepped from her spot, throwing down her gun the way he had the first time he brought her a flower. She helped him to his feet again and pulled him close.

"This isn't exactly a ring," He said, fingering the daisy behind her ear.

"It's perfect. It's exactly right." When she looked in his eyes she saw the future he insisted they could have. She saw everything he was promising. Fear still lingered deep inside of her, however.

"What if..."

"What?" He looked at her, worried.

"What if the world is just too different when we reach the other side? What if we can't have a future because everything has changed?"

"Wanda Li, you are the strongest, toughest person I know. If anyone can brave a new world, it's you. We can face anything together."

"Anything?"

"Anything. You don't have to be afraid anymore. You don't have to listen to them anymore." He really did make her stronger than those liars ever had. And that just brought a smile to her face. Fear was a choice. She knew now that there had always been a choice.

 **To Be Continued**


	9. The Night

It was night, it was late, it was dark and Ralphie was tired. But that wasn't why he had turned on night mode. Night mode was a stamina boost in theory, but what it really was was very light and minimal electrocution. You couldn't fall asleep or pass out if your skin is tingly and raw. If you were to look under his tactical gear you would see that his arms were covered in shock burns, because for Ralphie, night mode was always on.

Because for Ralphie, that was the only thing he was in control of. He was known for being a good soldier who would always follow the rules. He was happy that way, sure. He was happy to do what they needed him to do, especially if it helped ensure the safety of his friends. But that's all he was most of the time, a machine willing to do what they programmed him to do. The only thing that fully separated him from this mechanical persona he possessed was the way he cared and worried for the other soldiers.

And the only decision he was able to make was whether or not night mode was engaged. The tingling skin reminded him that he had a choice. He didn't believe, like some of the others, that there was a bigger choice to be made. He never saw himself as able to be anything other than a soldier. But when Keesha approached him in the dark, he _was_ willing to listen.

"Ralphie," She whispered, not having to be quiet but not wanting to startle him. He turned to her, eyes a little glazed over. He used to be passionate about things, and Keesha looked so sad to see how distant he was now.

"Yes? Did you need something? Is everything alright?"

"Um, not really. I need to talk to you, it's important." Ralphie looked at her in concern.

"Of course, tell me whatever's going on." She had known this would work. When everything else was broken inside of him, his empathy was still so strong. That's why she knew, when he came to understand the stakes, that he would join the revolution.

"There are some things we need to talk about. About the war. I know it's going to be hard to believe because it wasn't easy for me at first either, but we're on the wrong side." She went carefully and slowly because he was so broken, it wasn't going to be easy to put the pieces back together. Some of the pieces would never be recovered, like the innocence that had been stolen from them all.

Ralphie blinked.

"Keesha, do you need to talk to Carlos? He'll help you."

"I have talked to Carlos, and he did help me. Carlos confirmed all of my fears and things that I would have never thought to think up. Carlos wants this revolution as much as me, if not more."

"What are you talking about? That's not like him."

"No, what's not like him is the person who had to lie and say the war was almost over and that we're doing the right thing. That wasn't really him and this isn't really you." Ralphie blinked.

"I'm okay." Because people needed him to be okay.

"No you aren't, you're hurting yourself just to feel okay, and the others are hurting too!" Strike a chord with his empathy, but do it honestly. There would be no more lying. Ralphie seemed to flinch at her accusation and then looked at her with worry in his eyes.

"The others?"

"Breaking apart day by day. The longer we are forced to fight their monsters, the more we'll lose ourselves. Carlos was forced for years to lie, Dorothy Ann is isolated in her own mind, not connecting with anyone else. People like Tim and Phoebe or Wanda and Arnold are punished just for being in love. And each and every one of us has a misfire or two, a mistake that we regret. The guilt and the madness consume us. Look at yourself, Ralphie. Can't you tell that something's missing? That they purposefully drained you of life?" Again Ralphie flinched, but he listened. She was telling him that his friends were hurting, and that wasn't about to fly with him. He knew that they all had to make sacrifices, but sacrificing everything? Why had that ever seemed acceptable? He was angry at himself for letting his friends get hurt when that was the only thing he tried to fight.

"Tell me this isn't for a good cause Keesha, and I'll believe you. I'll trust you." There had never been a choice before, now there seemed to be a choice, a choice to actually make a difference and actually protect his friends. He was desperate for that.

"They have been creating the monsters that we fight. They're trying to produce super soldiers. While they fail, we will have to keep fighting and hurting. If they succeed, they might try to dispose of us. The only thing we can do is end this war ourselves. Take them down at the source, so they can't create any more monsters." Keesha explained, slowly watching light return to Ralphie's eyes. She knew he was ready to do whatever it took to protect his friends.

"I trust you. I'm sorry I bought their lies for so long."

"No, everyone did. Everyone let them control us because it made sense. We were just kids being filled with propaganda, but now we're going to fight back." Ralphie nodded.

"When does it start?"

"Carlos is trying to convince DA, he's going to see if it will work, and after that, we'll work everything else out."

"Is everyone else on board?" Ralphie asked.

"Carlos, Arnold, Phoebe, Tim, Wanda, me, and you." Ralphie nodded. He didn't admit that he was afraid of what the world outside would be when he escaped. Because if he finally got a choice again, he didn't really mind the fear. He looked at his arms and switched off night mode. He had more control than ever.

 **To Be Continued**


	10. The Turning Point

"Dorothy Ann, I need to speak to you." He'd asked and he'd asked and she'd brushed him off. Though it wasn't his style, now it was clear that he needed to demand she speak to him.

"Carlos now really isn't the right time. Our priorities need to be the war effort."

"My priority is you," he said boldly.

"What are you talking about? Get back to work." His response made her uneasy and irritated.

"DA I cannot in good conscience do anything productive until you let me talk to you."

"Fine, talk." She turned away, frustrated and angry at him.

"No, I need you to actually listen to me. Come into my office."

"Carlos, you're acting insane."

"Please, DA, this is important. This is about the war effort." That wasn't a lie. He had told himself he wasn't going to lie to her anymore.

"Okay. You have ten minutes of my time, which is more than generous." She set a timer, looking angry, and turned it on as soon as he started talking.

"I have proof that this war is fabricated. You can't interrupt, it's part of my time. I know what you think about this, but I have proof DA, proof." She grimaced but nodded, they agreed that he could talk for ten minutes. He pulled out a file labeled lesson plans.

"This is a script that was given to Ms. Frizzle. Notes on her lesson plans, instructions on what to do. She was hired to make us into creative problem solvers, but also tough as nails rule-followers. Did you notice that she stopped telling us to take chances, make mistakes, and get messy? That's because they told her to stop saying that. Because they don't want any more mistakes. She created relationships with us because she was told to because if she fostered these relationships we'd learn to trust authority. When we learned about the war, we learned it from the perspective of government propaganda. Look at this! There are pamphlets on what she should tell us. There's a DVD in here that has a drafting a video. But we're the only ones who were ever drafted. Our class was their testing group. I know that this isn't convincing you though. It just means that we were selected for the program. But that's not all I have for you. I also found this letter, confirming what I already knew." DA looked at him, waiting, wondering if he could do it- if he could shake her beliefs. So far she was strong, but he seemed so confident. What card did he have up his sleeve?

"Dear Ms. Frizzle," He read aloud, "The Magic School Bus Initiative must continue. Though it is our greatest hope that your students will be made unnecessary by our super-soldiers, with each test more mistakes have been made. Thus we need your trained elite to go behind and clean up our mess. If your assignment changes or the initiative is made irrelevant, we will let you know and dispose of the students." DA gasped then. Dispose of the students? Carlos had read over this letter so many times since he found it that he had almost forgotten how grim that sounded. He had wanted Dorothy Ann to fixate on the fact that the government was drawing out this fabricated war, but she'd landed instead on the last line, was blinking to herself, looking troubled.

"Your time is up." She said simply, blinking back tears.

"I didn't make this up, DA, this isn't one of my lies or jokes. I've never been more serious in my entire life. I don't want to end this war without you. I don't want to have to fight against you. But I will if I have to. If that's what becomes necessary. Because the rest of the class is on board. Everyone else believes and knows that this war has to end. You're the only one we're waiting for, and the choice is yours. But you said it yourself, my time is up. This was my last chance to convince you to end this war with us." The words hurt to say because he'd worked the closest with DA had become familiar with her habits, and though she was cold and calculated, he felt closer to her than the others, who he'd had to lie to. He didn't want her to walk out of this office and become the enemy, if it were up to him, he would give her a thousand chances. But this was the only one they got. She was either an ally or an enemy, and that choice had to be made now.

He held his breath and watched her weigh her options, having no idea what was going on inside her head.

Dorothy Ann had spent the last few years making sacrifices. Sacrificing her innocence and her sanity and, if it ever came to it, prepared to sacrifice her life. It was one thing to hear that the war was fabricated, it was another thing to hear that they were disposable before they even became soldiers. If super soldiers ever were achieved the war would be over, but they wouldn't have the peaceful retirement that had always been promised. They would likely be disposed of by said super soldiers. So really, there was only one way to survive. One way to not have to make that bitter sacrifice.

"I believe you, Carlos. You have everything in order and you have no reason to lie to me. So I believe you. What do we do now?"

 **To Be Continued**


	11. The Actress

She'd been relatively young when they targeted her, working on a local kid's show that taught elementary school kids little tidbits about real-world stuff. It was her biggest acting gig so far. She didn't think it would really get her noticed.

She was wrong.

She wasn't going to take the role when they initially offered it to her. It wasn't a money thing, they offered her a nice sum of money, but it seemed to conflict with her morals. She didn't want to fill the minds of children with government-created propaganda. She was a single mother herself, and it just didn't seem right. So they made their persuasion personal. They took Thomas, her four-year-od, and the threat was clear. If she did not comply, her only child would become a science experiment. So she complied.

It was heartbreaking, though, to shuffle these little lambs off to slaughter. Changing her name and style to appear like the fun, friendly, and trustworthy teacher that was demanded. Arnold was the hardest to work with, not because of his obstinance but because of his curly orange hair, which was similar to her son's hair. She could almost justify what she was doing with the other seven, but Arnold reminded her that these were children that she was forcing towards war. Then she would think of the child she was deprived of. As more years went by, she got angrier. She hated the role she had to play, hated that she loved her students and was turning them into soldiers. Hated that the whole thing became more and more scripted as it went on, shoving in more and more propaganda. Hated most of all that she was missing Thomas.

And finally, after 8 torturous years without her son, her class graduated. And for just a moment, she was proud. She was proud to have watched these brilliant and resilient young men and women grow up. Then she remembered what she had done, watched her class join a fight kept private from most of the world. And for just a moment, she was horrified. But emotions changed quickly and the pride and the horror were shoved aside by the feeling of relief and love that she felt when two armed guards escorted her son back into her life.

He was 12. Her precious, precious son was 12 now. He'd been just a little baby when he'd been taken. She had missed 8 years of his childhood, and now teenagedom was just around the corner. She'd spent more time with the children she'd sent off to war than with her own son. For the first few minutes, she just held him and memorized his features. For the first few minutes, they just held each other and cried. The past 8 years had broken them. The next five would help them grow and mend together.

Thomas was afraid of most things. In a year he would be old enough for college but he probably wouldn't go. When he closed his eyes he remembered the mutated soldiers he'd witnessed being created. He'd consumed the threats that he was next, had seen other children be turned into these beasts and released into the world for instant death. Other children whose parents weren't as compliant as his mom. His time at the base didn't overlap with the children of The Magic School Bus Initiative, so others were left to fight off the failed experiments, those who were unsure, untrained, and unconditioned to do so. Often the soldiers lost their lives. It would apparently be different when the soldier's arrived. His mother's students. The elite team. Children who had patriotism and murder drilled into their skulls. Not these weak soldiers who would frequently turn up in the morgue.

They treated Thomas like their pet, the snobby scientists who knew they were secure though thousands died at their hands. They would scare him for fun. Drag him into the morgue so he could see the mutilated bodies, it was a warning and a tease. _This could be you, Thomas!_ Other times they would plant him in a lab and force him to watch willing and unwilling participants be made into monsters. For 8 years he lived in fear. For 8 years he imagined himself a future victim of science. If he was made a monster the soldiers would hunt him to extinction. If he was made a soldier, the monsters would eat his eyes out of his face, or gnaw down his appendages to the joints. They tried to feed him propaganda but he could only comprehend death.

And the death stuck with him for years and years after his release. The world was nothing like his former captivity. It was safe, it was stable, it was good. But that only put the 17-year-old all the more on edge. Where was the war? 8 years! 8 years his life had been soaked in war! And sure, he knew that the war had been created, but there was still a war going on! But not here. His mom explained it as best as she could, telling him about the propaganda she'd taught for 8 years. He told her his part, what he'd seen while he was there, how they filled his head with fear and death while she filled young minds with courage and murder. Together they were disgusted by the corruption, but each was too afraid to be anything other than compliant.

So Thomas tried to stop searching for the war, tried desperately to move on and forget. And the former Ms. Frizzle tried to forgive herself for what she'd done and pretend that unspeakable crimes weren't being committed to the children she'd cared for for 8 years. But neither could just forget what they knew. They just couldn't be the ones to stand up to corruption. Fortunately, she had taught a very gifted class.

 **To Be Continued**


End file.
